


A Port in the Storm

by AntiMaterielGirl



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rain, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-05 01:48:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5356364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntiMaterielGirl/pseuds/AntiMaterielGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His mistress is terrified of thunderstorms and comes to him for comfort. This time, he provides more than just his strong arms and soft words.<br/>Rated explicit, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Port in the Storm

 

I wake to the sound of rain on the metal roof. I know that it's only a matter of time  before she panics and runs in here, searching for the reassuring warmth and pressure of my arms around her.

She’s terrified of storms. Growing up in the vault, there was nothing like this. The forces of nature overwhelm her easily, conditioned as she is to temperature-controlled rooms and a hermetically sealed atmosphere. She comes to me for comfort, as if I can protect her from the rain and wind with my strength and a modified shotgun.

I have protected her from everything else. It is only natural.

At first, it annoyed me. Comforting an employer was something I'd never been required to do. The first time it happened, I thought, _I'm a bodyguard, not a fucking babysitter._ But it was hard to stay angry when she crawled into my lap trembling, frightened.

I'll hold her until the storm stops, or until she calms. Sometimes, she’ll fall asleep in my arms or next to me in bed. I don’t mind now. She’s warm, and the presence of my employer comforts me almost as much as my presence comforts her.

I hear the creak of bed springs, the padding of her feet on the floor. Her door opens, closes. Then my door hinges squeal softly – I never close my door all the way. It's a needless precaution here in Megaton, but if she needs me I have to get to her quickly.  “Charon?” she says, hesitantly. I can feel the anxiety in her voice.

“I'm awake. Come here.” I hear her shuffle in, close the door, then pad towards me. She eases onto the bed and curls up next to me, face buried in my chest, shivering. I wrap my arms around her, and stroke her hair, her back. “It's okay. I won't let anything hurt you.” I whisper. When I first said this, it helped to calm her, so I keep saying it, every time.

I can feel her hands balled up, clenching my t-shirt tightly in her fists. Her breathing is even, if fast – so she's not crying. This is good. Then, an earth-shaking crash from outside coupled with a bright flash makes her jump - lightning. She screams in fear, and I pull her tighter to me. I can feel her frantic heartbeat, fast like a bird. The second flash and peal of thunder is further away, although still close. She's shaking so badly I'm afraid that she'll break apart. “It's okay. I won't let anything hurt you.” I whisper into her ear.

Then I'm startled to find her lips on mine, her soft hand on my ruined face.

It's like my body is not my own. My mouth opens, and her slick tongue darts in, seeking mine. She tastes of Nuka-Cola, sweet and vaguely fruity. My hand slides down her body, then underneath her long nightshirt, and I'm surprised  and pleased to find that she's wearing nothing underneath. I cup her round ass cheek and squeeze, in response she wraps her leg up and around mine, pressing her hips against me, moans into my mouth. I can feel her rapid exhalations on my face, her hands under my thin shirt, exploring my back.

She nips my bottom lip, and I growl playfully, flipping her onto her back. Her legs lock around me and she looks up at me, a soft smile on her lips. I realize now how blind I've been – I've missed her glances, her touches, mistaking them for simple kindness when they were so much more.

I press down against her, trailing wet kisses down her neck, sucking on her ear lobe. My crotch aches almost painfully as it rubs against her; she moans and wiggles her hips, grinding against me. “We're overdressed,” I whisper into her ear.

I lean back onto my heels, grip the hem of my shirt, and peel it over my head. I watch her in the dimness as she struggles with hers before I slide a hand up her back and lift. She pulls it over her head and tosses it away carelessly, exposing her soft, round breasts. I can't help myself – I nuzzle into her chest, taking a tender nipple in my mouth, sucking greedily. She moans, grips my head and pushes me into her. She shrieks when I nip her; her legs tighten around mine, pull me closer. When I pull away, her hands fly south to the waistband of my pants, and before I can stop her, she's unbuckled my belt. I allow her to unbutton my trousers. She slips her hand inside and grips me, pumping up and down.

 _Oh, how long has it been since a woman's touched me like this?_ I can't think, I can't...

But I can do. I back away, pull down my pants, kick them off onto the floor – or wherever, I don't care. I'm poised above her, pressing against her moist opening before I know how I got there.  Then, a lightning flash and I can see her – hands reaching for me, pulling me into her. “Please,” she pleads.

I enter her slowly, and oh – she's  so wet, so warm, so _tight._ She moans loudly and grasps my biceps, her nails digging into my flesh deliciously. “Please...” she moans into my ear. “Please don't leave me.”

“Never,” I answer between gasps. I thrust slowly, a steady rhythm, her passionate cries the most beautiful thing I've ever heard. I can hear the wind rattling a loose wall panel, the rain drumming on the roof, distant thunder as she writhes underneath me, thrusting her hips to meet my own. She smells faintly of soap, of leather and sweat. Her hands wrap around my back, pull my chest down to hers. I feel her hard nipples press against my rended chest, her soft breasts crushed against me.

If I died now, I'd die happy.

“Oh, oh Charon...” she moans. _She said my name._

I feel myself getting closer, and thrust harder, deeper, her cries getting louder.  Her head shakes from side to side and she stiffens, screaming into the cool night air. And then...then the inside of her squeezes me tight, so tight I can't...

I find blessed release with a shout and a shudder.

Slowly, the world swims back into focus. I look down at her – eyes closed, head tilted back, her soft lips parted in a silent sigh. Her eyelids flutter, then open slowly.  She reaches up, caresses my face. “Protect me...” she murmurs.

I nuzzle into the crook of her soft neck. “Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently, there's a treasure trove of PWP in my brain.  
> A wise man once said, "A dirty mind is a terrible thing to waste."  
> Probably Shakespeare. ;)


End file.
